Buzzed
by littlelotte26
Summary: A short, fluffy Dami/Steph drabble set in some preReboot future. At the wedding of Tim and Tam, a new romance blooms.


**Title:** Buzzed  
**Fandom:** DC Comics  
**Author: **Yours Truly (littlelotte26)  
**Pairing:** Damian Wayne/Stephanie Brown, hinted Richard Grayson/Barbara Gordon, Timothy Drake/Tamara Fox  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** ≈ 1,000  
**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to DC comics and are used without permission. If I did own them, I'd be making money off them.  
**Warnings:** Language, alcohol use, kissing, (does sexual tension count?)

It had been a bad night. At least for Stephanie. Dick and Babs had already snuck away from the party, exchanging shy smiles. Jason had crashed the party for the free booze, and had stayed just long enough to give Tim a congratulatory slap on the back, telling him he was proud that his baby brother was finally getting laid. Jason had then taken Cass and his menthol cigarettes out for patrol. Cass was grateful to escape from the handsy Hong Kong stockbroker that Tim had invited to the wedding. Steph had been planning to go with them, but she had been pinned at one of those high cocktail tables by a chatty groomsman. Cass had given her a sympathetic look; Jason had shot her one of his annoyingly handsome smirks as if he was doing her a favor. Looking at Tam, in her snow white gown, sweetly nuzzling Tim on the dance floor made Steph feel vaguely sick.

She had made it through the engagement – _no really, Tam, the ring is beautiful. Yes, Tim has always had good taste. _Everything was fine, until Tam decided, stupidly, that she should make Steph (and Cass) bridesmaids. _You're right, Tam, the yellow and pink are good color combination, what was I thinking?_ And somehow, by the grace of God, Allah, Vishnu, and maybe the flying spaghetti monster, Steph survived the wedding. But the party, held at the Wayne Manor, was going to be the death of her. She had nearly had three drinks spilled on her. It wasn't even eleven yet, but the Waynes knew way too many borderline-alcoholic socialites.

Like the one holding her hand right now. His name was Tony, some Wayne Industries paperpusher, who knew someone who knew Tam, ergo insta-groomsman. Tony was mildly handsome with sandy blonde hair and that hint of scruff that guys who want to define their weak jawline have.

"So yeah, like I was saying, I think I'm going to get that promotion soon," drawled Tony, taking a gulp of his scotch. It was his fifth – or his sixth? Steph couldn't remember. She had been nursing her third Cosmopolitan for about an hour. She was feeling giggly and warm now, but she was determined not to end up going home with Tony or anyone else for that matter. "So what did you say you do, Susan?"

"I didn't," she said, carefully extracting her arm from his grasp.

"Susan! Wait! Come back!" Tony mumble-yelled, running into the table, upsetting their drinks and those inedible shelled almonds they give you as party favors. He lurched backwards into the arms of a similarly intoxicated blonde lawyer. Steph rolled her eyes and quietly made her way down to the Batcave.

It was blessedly cool and quiet down there. Steph took a shaky seat on the steps, staring down onto the cars and the Batcomputer; the huge dinosaur looming over her head.

"That dress is heinous," said the crisp voice behind her.

Stephanie choked on a laugh, turning to look at Damian Wayne behind her. He stood there in his tux, unbelievably, arrogantly handsome. Steph patted the step next to her and he sat down.

"You're drunk," he said coolly.

"Buzzed," she corrected quickly. "Which is why I came down here -"

"Oh yes, messing with state-of-the-art crime fighting technology whilst intoxicated is a much better life choice."

"I'm not the one hiding down here," she shot back, annoyed.

"Tt, I am not hiding. I just find social occasions, especially ones honoring the nuptials of Drake, suffocating. I am finding a better use for my time."

Steph rolled her eyes. In all the years she knew him, Steph had learned to put up with Damian's snobbery. Ignoring him was the best option. She sighed and played with alternating pink and yellow ruffles on her gown.

"This dress isn't _so_ bad, D."

"You must be _extremely_ drunk then. That is the most hideous thing I have ever had the misfortune to see you wear, including your charmingly _bourgeois_ clothes. It makes your skin look sallow." Steph had also learned to put up with Damian's elitism. Smacking him upside the head was the best option for that.

"Ow!" He rubbed the back of his head.

"Be nice, you elitist prick. And that didn't hurt – it was barely a love tap."

They looked at each other. Not for the first time, Steph finds herself wondering why and how such a pair of long, beautiful eyelashes was wasted on an ungrateful wretch like Damian. She would loathe to admit it, but Dami had grown up handsome. Not out of line for the Robins; they all were attractive. Maybe Bruce only picked attractive Robins. Dick was universally liked – he was handsome and lithe. Jason was, well, Jason. Every girl secretly loved a bad boy. Even Tim had his own dorky, sweet charm. But if she had to pick….if she had to pick…she found herself staring into Damian's blue eyes.

She expected to find him scowling. Instead he was staring at her. In a strange, intense way. She could feel a blush slowly creeping up from her chest to her face. She knew that she looked like a tomato. Steph immediately tried to look down, when she felt Damian's hands on her face. He was firmly, but gently turning her chin towards his face again. She froze. He brushed a stray hank of hair behind her ear.

"You look better with your hair down," he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be touching her and talking about her hair.

"It – it was Tam's idea," she said stupidly. His hands were on the back of her neck. Her brain was moving in slow motion. "That we have matching up-dos." He was steadily pulling her closer.

"It was a terrible idea." They were unbearably close. She could smell his cologne. Damn, he smelled good. Stephanie resisted the urge to bury her head in his tux and breathe in his scent. Now _that _would be a terrible idea. In fact, this whole situation was a terrible idea. But she was buzzed. And he smelled nice. And he was an elitist ass. And he had beautiful eyes. And he was annoying. And his hands were really soft on the back of her neck. And he was her Robin.

And then he kissed her. It was a timid, gentle first kiss. Gentle, soft lips caressed her own, becoming more insistent, more demanding. She could feel his left hand gentle on the nape of her neck and his right moving down her back; the heat of his hands seemed to burn through the back of her dress. She happily gave into the kiss, leaning her whole body forward to grip the lapels of his tuxedo. It was the most ridiculous thing, to be here, in the Batcave, kissing him. It was the most natural thing, a Batgirl kissing her Robin.

He pulled away, looking at her, trying to get his breathing even before he spoke.

"That is an absolutely hideous dress."

"Yeah, I know," she said with a laugh and kissed him again. It was ridiculous. It was crazy. It was perfect. And she was buzzed.


End file.
